Dislocation
by Vathara
Summary: Becoming Shiroe meant more than gaining a few centimeters and some cool spells.
1. Shiroe

A/N: Bunny bit after watching the second ep. Ep 2 and 3 jossed some, so... here's the rewrite. Hee. (Original version is up on Archive of Our Own, at (slash) works (slash)1014010 (slash)chapters (slash)2013488

_At least I don't have a tail_.

It said something about the whole impossible situation, that this was currently on Shiroe's list of Reasons to Keep Getting Up in the Morning. Not nearly as important as the fact that Naotsugu and Akatsuki needed him to keep it together, but...

Some of the Crescent Moon Alliance's guild-members had tails. He was not going to ask how they were handling it. Heavy doses of Marielle's industrial-strength glomps along with a few friends in the same boat, probably. All things considered, he was just glad he'd created Shiroe as a race closer to human-

The enchanter took a deliberate breath, and another drink of tastes-like-water. It was a sunny day. They had a rescue to carry out. They had something to _do_, that mattered.

It didn't help. A strategist's mind kept circling back to one inescapable fact.

_This body isn't human_.

Which was _not_ a safe thing to think, despite all the evidence that their physical existences were... more malleable than reality. PKers dissolving into a rain of items. Monster-slain players reviving in the Cathedral. Akatsuki's form shifting in a flood of light and screams - and now he had to get to know the efficient, silent assassin he'd partied with as a _girl_, and he was _not_ a closet pervert, thanks, Naotsugu...

Anyway. Whatever they looked like, they had to believe they were still human beings. Though strictly speaking, Shiroe wasn't sure any Adventurer was human in this world. Human beings died when they were killed.

_Like the People of the Land. NPCs are mortal, and we're not. That's... not good_. _If we think we're human, and they're not, the city isn't going to be civilized anymore. If we think we're_ not _human - those PKers might just be the start. If killing other players isn't enough of a thrill to give them something to do, and they can't kill inside a town... Shouryuu and the others are right. If the balance of power between the guilds destabilizes, things are going to get much worse_. _How can we fix that_-

No. He was _not_ going to think about the mess behind them in Akihabara right now. Eighteen members of the Crescent Moon Alliance could take care of themselves, and the one who couldn't needed them to keep it together to come get her. Serara, Naotsugu, Akatsuki; all of them were depending on the legendary strategist, Shiroe.

_It's kind of hard to be legendary when you feel like you need to kick off the platform shoes_.

A couple of centimeters shouldn't make that much of a difference. Really. It wasn't _that_ much.

...So why did he keep getting hit with, _everything is too short?_

He flexed the fingers of his avatar's hand, still unsettled by how smoothly they answered his will. These weren't the hands he'd grown up with. Fingers and thumb were a little thinner, a little longer. And stronger. This body could grip a staff or hold a horse's reins for hours, when a grad student wasn't used to hanging onto more than books and papers. This body _knew_ combat, without conscious thought; and every potential explanation he came up with for why just made the abyss of fear yawn deeper-

And he was avoiding the real problem. Again.

_Fifteen minutes. I promised. _

Naotsugu had played with him for years; he knew Shiroe needed a little quiet time for a break after a meal. He'd keep himself and Akatsuki busy.

Glancing out of the corner of his eye to make sure the other two weren't watching, Shiroe pressed two fingers against his cheekbone; a conscious, known point of physical sensation he could use as an anchor. And reached out, with something that wasn't a physical sense at all.

It wasn't exactly a shimmer. It certainly wasn't a sound; though it reminded him of the pressure-in-his-bones feeling of touching active speakers. It was if he could suddenly see a B sharp, or hear the stark difference between cerulean blue and pine-green.

Sun-on-cobwebs of old magic in the roadway; untouched, slowly unraveling. Bright shades of power in Naotsugu's shield, Akatsuki's kodachi, his own cloak and staff; enchantments that had begun as ancient magic, but flared into new and joyous life with care and use. Enticing whisper-colors of faint magic on the breeze, like gossamer veils, hinting of ruins and lairs and creatures of magic...

_Sense Aura_.

Supposedly the other magical races might develop similar mystical senses. The frail Mystics, for one, might sense living creatures' magic even more precisely. But he'd wanted a character that would delve into the secrets of the _world_, not other people; and Half-Alvs were supposed to have an uncanny sense for not just magic, but specifically ancient enchantments...

_Check. And it won't. Turn. Off! _

He hadn't thought about it until he'd faced down Marielle yesterday. The world had been odd enough around them already, without trying to sort out the almost-colors and not-sounds at the edge of his senses. And Marielle - he knew her race was Elf, he could see the ears. But it hadn't _meant_ anything, beyond a note in his head on likely stat adjustments and potential NPC allies. She was a pretty priestess with a dangerously low cuteness threshold and a glomp that could bend steel bars; just ask Naotsugu's armor. Gold hair and eyes and pointed ears... back when Elder Tale was just a game anyone could customize their avatars. It wasn't a big deal.

Until he'd backed her into a verbal corner, and seen Marielle's Elf ears poke through gold as they flattened in dismay. And almost lost a strategist's composure in sheer, unadulterated _panic_, because his flare of annoyance had come with the oddest sense of _coming into focus_.

_Elf-cleric-agitated but magic's _contained,_ not flaring, just upset but be_ watchful-

_I will not panic now_, he'd thought then. _I do not have time for panic, the Crescent Moon Alliance doesn't have time for panic, I will panic_ later. _For fifteen minutes. After lunch. If we're not being attacked_.

Well. This was later.

_We now return you to your regularly scheduled panic attack... Oh, hell_.

Because at the time, he hadn't been sure. Not _completely_ sure. Now?

Shiroe closed his eyes, and turned his head toward one of those gossamer-drifts of magic. Small, sparkly; the sense-of-life said _animal_ but the brightness of it said _status effect likely_-

Opened his eyes, peering into the distance. And caught a glimpse of gray feathers, flashing bits of scintillating orange and violet.

_It's a dazzle-dove_.

A low-level monster, usually only dangerous if you got careless and managed to get Dazzled near something nastier. Which, oh, he _might_ have done, many years ago...

_So you're sensing auras. It's not visible, like ears or a tail. As long as you don't stare at things that aren't there, no one will probably even notice_.

...Somehow, knowing that didn't help much.

He squinted at the not-quite-colors. No; it wasn't moving his eyes that made a difference. It was moving his _attention_. Which could actually be useful. Just as he'd found in the game, being in utter darkness wouldn't stop him from having _some_ clue where anything magical was.

_Non-magical is another matter. But most ruins in Seldesha have background levels of magic... which is why it's not always safe to_ live _in them, brr_...

He took another breath, and deliberately lowered his hand.

_The online game only gave you sight and sound. There was no way to know anything about... other senses_.

Somehow, some way, he felt as if this was his own damn fault. Which was completely illogical. Elder Tale had been a game.

_And now it's reality_.

If the world was real, if the monsters were real... then he had to accept that his avatar was real, too. Even if the consequences were terrifying.

_I wasn't joking about the leaves, Naotsugu_.

He couldn't really distinguish individual leaves. But he could feel the general shape of _trees growing around magic_, and Akatsuki could zip through the branches without stirring a one. Just a bright flash of _there-and-gone_.

And it'd been so comforting to feel that flash in the darkness, whenever she stepped out of Sneak. If startling. He was an Enchanter, not a Guardian. Yet he'd known where his ally _was_...

And he'd known their enemies were closing in as fast as Naotsugu had.

_Of course I did_, Shiroe thought wryly. _That's why I picked Half-Alv to start with. Enchanters have a hard enough time surviving the first few levels as it is. I knew the Sense Aura bonus would let me detect mobs closing in on the group more quickly. And a few seconds to pick the right spell makes all the difference_.

There had been other reasons to pick that race as well. Some game-useful. Some just interesting. He'd liked playing Shiroe.

But that was when it'd been a game.

_So now it's not_. The Enchanter tried to let the panic wash over him, hoping it would fade with another breath. _So. If someone had warned me - what would I have changed?_

Besides not logging on that night in the first place? Shiroe was his best, his most powerful character. When the triffid had thrown him - it hadn't been luck that he'd rolled with the fall. He knew what Shiroe could do. Even when he was hurt. Even when he was afraid.

_Shiroe's my best chance_. Their _best chance_.

Maybe they would revive at a Cathedral if they died. But something inside him tensed up at the thought. It was too easy. Too simple.

_It's magic. And powerful magic always has a catch_.

If he didn't want to die, and he didn't want his party to die, then he had to accept reality. Here and now, he was Shiroe, level 90 Half-Alv Enchanter.

_So you can feel magic. Live with it_. He tried for a smile. _It could have been worse. Poor Akatsuki_.

Oddly, that thought made the smile come easier. If being Shiroe had bothered him that much, he could have used the shapeshifting potion. But if he had, Akatsuki would have been in real trouble. Roleplaying the opposite sex for a few hours could be fun. Being stuck in the wrong gender? That could be life-threatening.

Compared to that, what were a few weird lights in the edge of his vision?

_But when we get back to Earth, I'm going to find whoever developed Novasphere Pioneers. You do not mess with level 90 spellcasters_...

Except he wouldn't be level 90. Not on Earth. That was the whole point.

_I have a party behind me, and I'll bet we'll have the Crescent Moon Alliance right behind us. I'm sure we'll think of something_.

Which was good, because his fifteen minutes were just about up.

_I have a plan. I can live with this. For as long as it takes_.

...Though maybe he'd better schedule another panic attack tomorrow. Just in case.

Shiroe stood, and took a deep breath of sun-warmed air. Touched his pouch, where his summoning flute waited. After all, being stuck here wasn't all bad. In the game, your avatar's expression never changed...

And he _had_ to see the look on Akatsuki's face.

-  
A/N: According to the light novel canon, the "flavor text" on anything in the Elder Tale world (items, monsters, races, _individual characters_) not only began to apply as real once the Adventurers woke in Seldesha, it started _expanding over time_. With various hilarious and scary results. And the flavor text on Half-Alvs says, among other things, that they're "tall, slender, and full of curiosity. Descendents of the most magically powerful race on the world of Seldesha, throwbacks born among humans with Alv ancestry, who have a high affinity for mysterious writings and ancient magical ruins".

As Kryal put it, "sounds like the ATA gene turned Up To Eleven".

So, I have no canon evidence for Sense Aura. But it seems possible, and it was easier to badger the bunnies into going for that given how disappointed they were about the ears...


	2. Naotsugu

A/N: The bunnies have been shamelessly encouraged, I know exactly who's to blame... Much thanks to Kryal for providing some translations of Japanese Wikipedia bits. Ah, juicy canon background info... :)

* * *

_Well_, Naotsugu reflected, _the good news is, I'm not going to have to fight through the morning commute for a while_.

He let his glance slide toward where Shiroe sat in quiet contemplation after their tasteless lunch. Or what looked like contemplation. The white-and-gold cloak didn't seem to as much as twitch from here, but Naotsugu would bet the paycheck he probably wasn't going to see that their strategist was very quietly, very _responsibly_, having a controlled freakout.

_Heh. Can't blame him_.

After all, he'd done some not-so-quiet and definitely _not_ responsible freaking out of his own, before Shiroe's call had come through. One minute he'd been logged on for the first time in two years; refreshing his memory on everything a level 90 Guardian could do, and warming up a few panty-chasing lines calculated to make a too-serious engineering grad student bang his head on his desk. Because seriously, Shiroe always needed to loosen up. Just a little. And they'd have a brand-new expansion to explore together, this was going to be so much _fun_-

The clock clicked over.

_Bam_.

It hadn't even gone dark. Naotsugu just had the weirdest sense that he'd just missed something... and where was all this sunlight coming from?

_Panicking in plate armor? Bad idea_.

At least he'd been in a rather nice forest clearing, and not next to a whole bunch of other panicking people. He'd heard some yelling, but it'd had more of a tone of "what the freaking _hell!_" than the sound of anybody actually hurt. So he'd grabbed onto something he'd read once about the first rule of getting lost: sit down and _stay put_.

Waking up in Seldesha pretty much counted as lost in Naotsugu's book. Especially when, in one who-knew-what-happened blink, he'd gone from being a twenty-five-year-old businessman in (ahem) okay shape, to a Guardian in full plate, sword, and shield.

Moving around was _weird_. He knew the armor weighed a lot. He could tell by the thump of his gauntlet on his chest, or the momentum when he slung his shield and longsword over his back. But it didn't feel heavy. It felt like... heck. Like the familiar constriction of a salaryman's suit and tie. Like he was just used to it.

Naotusgu liked to think he didn't spook easily. But this was - well, spooky. And if all that yelling was a bunch of people just as spooked as he was, things could get messy. The kind of mess he didn't want to get into without serious backup, even if he did look like he could handle a whole biker brawl on his own. And speaking of _look like_...

He'd spent more time than he wanted to think about just staring at the water. Lucky him, he'd based his character icon on his own face, more or less. So the face looking back was odd, but not quite as odd as being able to walk around in sheet steel without even breaking a sweat.

_Right now, that's me. Huh_.

Weird or not, he'd known he couldn't stay by that pond forever. The trick was picking a direction to go. Yelling meant people. Yelling also meant those people were scared and upset. He'd been listening hard, trying to judge which faint yells had the best chance of belonging to people who were upset, but not so upset they couldn't think-

_Ring_.

Shiroe's icon. Shiroe's invitation to chat. The one player Naotsugu most wanted to see; the one guy he _knew_ he could depend on to keep a level head in any and all disasters. Whatever this mess was, their chances of getting out of it had just skyrocketed.

He could have _hugged_ Shiroe for showing up. Not that he'd tell their shy strategist that. The poor guy had a hard enough time dealing with girls as it was.

Which was part of the reason Naotsugu had decided to ham up the Panty Warrior as soon as they'd determined neither of them had a clue what was going on. Because the second he'd seen the enchanter half-stumble down the hill to meet him...

_Poor Shiroe_, had been Naotsugu's startled, gleeful thought. _He's going to be beating girls off with a stick!_

If Hasegawa Naotsugu had had to describe Shirogane Kei to Missing Persons, the word he would have had to use was _average_. Average height, average build; even his glasses somehow looked like average grad-school glasses. Drop the younger man into any Tokyo crowd, and you couldn't find him. Bring him to a party? Naotsugu had learned to check the quiet corners, but other than that, most people wouldn't even realize Kei was there.

The Enchanter Shiroe was _not_ average.

_Half-Alv_, Naotsugu thought now, carefully not watching as Shiroe's fingers explored dark hair. _Wish I'd read up more on that race_.

Sure, he knew the basics. Some unthinkably long time ago, Alvs had been the most mystically advanced civilization in all of Seldesha. Then... well, what had happened depended on who you asked, but everybody agreed that the last of the Alvs had died out centuries ago.

Only before they had... heh. Alvs had liked humans. Some of them had liked them a lot. Meaning to this day, usually in the most unsuspecting families, a bunch of throwback traits would get together and have a party, and a Half-Alv would be born.

_Kind of the ultimate Ugly Duckling story_, Naotsugu reflected. _If the little swan grew up to throw lightning bolts_.

The longer he'd known Kei, the less he'd been surprised at the guy's choice for his character. Nails that stuck up got hammered down, and Shirogane Kei had seen a lot of hammering.

_Shiroe's going to start breaking the hammers_.

Naotsugu had seen hints of that the first night, when they'd faced the briar weasels. One minute Shiroe had been trying to strategize their way through the fight the same as always, and doing a pretty good job considering everything was suddenly real, stinky teeth were snapping at their faces, and the controls were acting like a useless stack of pop-ups. The next-

Maybe getting tossed by that triffid had rattled loose the chains of proper behavior in Kei's head. Naotsugu almost wished he could go back and thank it.

_Ignore the commands. Feel the motion!_

Sounded kooky, but it worked. And it was _awesome_.

Though not nearly as awesome as that fight with the PKers last night.

"_I wouldn't mind giving them the money."_ Shiroe's voice had turned downright evil. _"That is_, if _they can beat us."_

With that, the last qualms Naotsugu had about facing other players vanished. Shiroe was backing him, all the way. The PKers might think they had the numbers. _He_ had a strategist.

And he was a Guardian.

_You're not getting past me to Shiroe. Don't even try_.

They did try, of course. They were idiots, but they weren't stupid. Healers, mages, warriors, _then_ anybody else. And Shiroe was obviously a mage.

_Anchor Howl! _

Thinking back on it now, Naotsugu wondered how long it'd take Shiroe to calm down enough that he could ask the enchanter what spellcasting _felt_ like. Because the Howl wasn't anything as simple as just calling an attack. It was like... like reaching out and _demanding_ the world pay attention to him. Like feeling all the eyes in a smoky bar about to boil over into a fight, and _daring_ them to take him on.

_You don't get to hurt him. You don't get to_ touch _him. Not without going through me first_.

Not one of them had laid a finger on Shiroe. Not one.

_Damn, I'm good_.

They all were. Not just because they were level 90. They worked _together_, assassin and enchanter taking apart their enemies with clinical precision while the idiot bandits had focused on one loud, obvious Guardian.

But what was really awesome was a little moment Naotsugu had almost missed. One quiet, subtle spell, that had pulverized the keystone of their enemies' whole strategy.

_Astral Hypnos_.

Looking back, Naotsugu thought he could pinpoint when Shiroe had snapped that spell off. The strategist had been directing him toward the most deadly fighter among their opponents, there'd been a subtle silvery glow around his hand...

Just a glow. No whispered spell. No subtle attempt to poke his way through a menu. The enchanter had just _reached out_ for the magic he wanted, and... it came.

_Our little Ugly Duckling's starting to fledge_.

The food was tasteless, and the whole situation was as crazy as anything out of a fantasy manga. But Naotsugu couldn't help hoping it lasted a few weeks longer.

_Back with Marielle - he knew what the right choice was. All he needed was a nudge to say it_. Naotsugu hid a grin, remembering that flash of wonder in Shiroe's eyes, as the enchanter realized his party was going to back him, no matter what. Which was all the strength he'd needed to make the _right_ call. For everyone.

_It's like a wisteria vine finally reaching out of the shade. He's growing into himself_.

It was going to be hard to go back to Tokyo after this. For all of them. Shiroe was breaking a tactician's mind out of the ice of years of _don't stand out_. Akatsuki was finally getting the respect no one on Earth was going to give a shrimp her size. As for himself... being a Guardian could be painful. But _so much_ fun.

_Don't borrow trouble. Like Shiroe said, we don't even know how we got here. Figuring out a way home could take a while_.

At least Shiroe's spells of clumsiness from being too tall seemed to be wearing off. Fighting monsters had been good for their enchanter. For all of them, really. Maybe they'd wake up tomorrow and this would all be a dream. Until then, the faster they got used to these bodies, the better.

Especially for Shiroe. A few extra centimeters and a Half-Alv's build were going to have too many cuties after him as it was. If he hung onto that ungodly cute puppy-growing-into-paws hesitance, Marielle would be the least of his problems. Just look at how fast their Little Miss Deadly had fallen for him. Sure, Akatsuki said she was repaying a debt. Right. Everybody repaid debts with stars in their eyes and little pink hearts dancing over their heads...

Well, not literally. Lucky for all of them. The _look_ on Shiroe's face when Akatsuki had pledged fealty!

_Thought he was going to burst into flames_. Naotsugu smirked. _You'd think a girl never crushed on him before_.

Then again, he knew Kei. The ultimate quiet Nice Guy. Only most people never knew Kei was a nice guy. All they saw were the sharp eyes and shiny glasses. So yeah. It wasn't just possible, it was _likely_.

_Better be a little careful teasing them. Not_ too _careful, Shiroe would notice - but nothing too raunchy_.

He was pretty sure Akatsuki was older than she looked. Nobody could deliver such a perfect knee to the face without the confidence to mean it. But older wasn't necessarily grownup, and if this was her first real crush... well, there was a huge difference between being an open pervert and being mean. He liked Akatsuki. Even if she was a violent little shrimp. She had great taste in party members.

_How'd she even know Shiroe had that potion? _

Naotsugu rolled his eyes at himself. How else? Shiroe had probably zeroed in on yet another solo player with potential, pointed out a few quests where an assassin would be an invaluable asset to a party, and looked honestly bewildered when said solo suddenly started turning up to party with him.

And now they were all partying together, FTF, and he got to watch Shiroe try to be cool, calm, and collected while the enchanter was staring down the Ultimate Weapon of Deadly Cuteness.

_Hee. Hee hee hee_...

Violet eyes narrowed at him. "What?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Naotsugu caught Shiroe's shoulders lift. Good. Crisis averted, for now. "Oh, just thinking," he said mischievously.

"Thinking?"

Now she was suspicious. Smart assassin. Naotsugu stood, and heaved a dramatic sigh. "Thinking... that I can't believe we agreed to do this! Going all the way to Susukino? I'm going to die from boob deficienc-"

_Bam_.

"My lord, may I knee this strange perverted man in the face?"

Yep. This was going to be fun.

* * *

A/N: FTF - Face to face.

Okay, got better screenshots of Shiroe. (Darn it. Disappointed bunnies.) And more canon info. Apparently in the world of Log Horizon, "Half-Alv" is not _at all_ related to "Half-Elf". Elves are an existing race; Marielle is one. Alvs are apparently an entirely _different_ race, who were a highly advanced magical civilization, and are now supposedly extinct. Half-Alvs only exist because there's still Alv heritage in some humans that surfaces as "throwbacks".

(The available canon info on Alvs actually reminds me of the Old Race in Andre Norton's Witch World, complete with the dark hair, pale skin, strong magical potential, and association with ancient ruins and Lost Technologies. But that's just me...)


	3. Akatsuki

A/N: This one may also be jossed by later episodes, simply because a lot of it is extrapolation. In canon, apparently, we don't even find out what Akatsuki's RL name is. Given a lot of the characters seem to have avatar names related to their RL ones, Kryal suggested "Tsukino Akane" for a possible "real name". One part that is jossed by ep 5 - sorry, I'm keeping that. Updates require logging out!

* * *

_Is Shiroe going to be okay? Is my family going to be okay?_

_Am I going to be okay? _

Akatsuki had no doubt that Naotsugu would be okay. He was the kind of guy who always landed on his feet somehow. Granted, he was a lot nicer than the casually swaggering jocks she'd met. Not that that was much of a surprise either; she couldn't see Shiroe making friends with a guy who was _just_ a jock...

Her face threatened to warm. Akatsuki focused on dutifully consuming the last scraps of her tasteless lunch. This area seemed to be free from monsters for the moment, but no loyal ninja would let her lord wander too far off in unknown terrain. Enchanters were squishy.

_And we shouldn't let him brood too much. He will, if we don't keep him busy_.

She didn't know Shiroe as well as she'd like, but as long as she'd known him, the enchanter _fixed things_. Being stuck in Seldesha was one big, currently unfixable mess. It'd eat him up inside, if they let it.

_We're not going to let it_.

Funny. She hadn't traded a word with Naotsugu on the subject, but she was already sure she had a partner in enchanter-wrangling. It seemed crazy on the surface; Naotsugu was a carefree, casual warrior who joked about being a pervert as if it were a badge of honor.

But when it came down to a fight, he was all tank. Solid, dependable, and just _good_, in a way that made her feel like she could take a moment, take a deep breath, and choose exactly the right move against their enemies.

She'd never met a tank that good before. Not even in a group with Shiroe quietly sorting people into a _party_, instead of a random group of players all after the same monster.

_If Shiroe had been in Dog-Ears' party, we'd never have known what hit us_.

Not that she thought Shiroe would ever have anything to do with player-killing bandits. That would be just... impossible. The player she'd partied with over the last year had always been honest, forthright, and - rarest of all - _kind_. Most players wouldn't bother trying to party with someone who only communicated by text chat. You could only keep your attention on so much at once, after all; and the vast majority of gamers in Elder Tale preferred to keep their eyes on the battlefield.

Yet from the day they'd met, Shiroe had made it work. More, he'd played along; always addressing her as the silent male Assassin, Akatsuki, and acting as if his character were reading her texts as notes and secret hand-signs. To the point he'd deliberately summon a Wisp of Magic Light to the field, if it would have been otherwise too dark to see the Assassin's motions.

And then there'd been the memorable quests where she'd been typing swift advice to her temporary lord... only to find _Shiroe_ had opened a text chat. A chat where the actions he asked her character to carry out didn't match what he was saying. At all.

Those had been interesting fights. Especially the one where by sheer awful luck, they'd ended up in a PUG with a would-be Jenkins.

_Akatsuki?_ the text had read. _When we're ready to move, please knee that idiot in the face_.

The resulting sputtering over voice chat - especially when Shiroe had used the idiot's distraction to pull off the rest of the quest _perfectly_ - had made her quickly double-check that her microphone was still off. Before she broke down in epic giggles.

_I wonder_. Akatsuki folded her hands through a few of the signs she'd daydreamed; _goblins, ahead, five_, flickering off her fingers as easily as brushing kanji on a page. _If I signed at Shiroe - would he sign back?_

She was afraid to find out. Being a ninja was _her_ dream. Not Shiroe's.

And she'd had so many dreams of it. Kendo practice was stiff. Flashy. For _show_; even in the fiercest national competitions, unless someone made a mistake, no one got injured for real. Which she was fine with - but it was nothing like the cool, focused discipline of a ninja.

She'd persisted, even so. The few schools of ninjutsu that might have realistic training weren't in the range of a student's budget. So she'd studied, and trained... and spent a lot of practices imagining the situation was just a little different.

_Silent, the ninja bows over her sword in the high hall. She shall serve her master in this, as in all things; for boredom is yet another chance to train the empty mind_...

A formal bow to a daimyo. A silent check of her equipment; both lethal as a blade, and the skilled knowledge of makeup and current acceptable topics to pass as just an ordinary girl. Acting the perfect assistant in a tea ceremony, to get closer to her target. She'd pick one fantasy of being a ninja for the day, and quietly live it as much as she could. It made life as a pretty _little_ girl bearable.

And then she'd found _Elder Tale_.

Suddenly, for a few hours a day, she could _be_ the dream. Be cool, competent, disciplined Akatsuki; tall and aloof, a silent male Assassin as focused and deadly as she could make him. She'd explored all the secret places of Seldesha, a new wonder around every corner; fighting and dying and learning how not to die again. Level after level, honing her skills...

But past a certain point, solo adventuring got awkward. You needed a group for the tougher monsters, the most intricate dungeons, the most interesting quests.

_Damn it_.

At least a lot of the higher-level players were as much into roleplaying as she was. _"Assassins are lone wolves"_, didn't get you funny looks. More, "Of course!" and "As you wish, my silent friend." Which was nice, but...

_Something is missing_.

What, she hadn't been able to pin down. Until the day she'd approached an odd group with a high-level Enchanter, who'd apparently found a way into a dungeon she'd never even _heard_ of.

"Lone wolves? So you are." The voice had been gentle, but definitely male. "But if you would consent to join our pack for the next few days, I believe it might be to all of our advantage..."

And a text window had popped up.

_Normally this dungeon would take a lot more players, Akatsuki-san. But I'm not sure how many more people we can bring into the group, not if we want to run it this week. There's a secret passage that comes out behind the boss in the last room. Only an Assassin can use it. It'll take precise timing, but if we plan it right... Interested?_

A private offer. So the group wouldn't feel pressured to let her in, and she wouldn't feel pressured not to refuse. So that if she didn't trust the Enchanter's ability to create a viable plan - more than that, to create a plan a group of strangers could execute, and then convince the rest of the group to follow it - then he would be the only one she insulted.

It was polite. Precise. _Thoughtful_. It played to her strengths, specifically, rather than just slotting her into the lineup as yet another DPS.

And it required him to trust her, as much as she trusted him.

Impulsively, she'd reached for the keyboard before she could think twice. _I await your command, Shiroe-dono. _

_Er, _-san_ is fine, really._

_That would be inappropriate, Shiroe-dono._

_...As you wish?_

She'd grinned behind the mask of her avatar, intrigued, and - for the first time in a long time - simply happy. Every ninja should have a sworn lord; whether that lord knew it or not. And she might just have found Akatsuki's. If this dungeon worked out.

It had. As did the next, and the next. Not every mission they shared was successful; even Shiroe might miss something in Elder Tale's ever-shifting landscape of quests and monsters. But the enchanter always had a fallback plan or three. They might sometimes retreat to fight another day, but rare indeed was the adventure in which one of Shiroe's party died.

_I trust him. And I don't even know his real name_.

Shiroe and Naotsugu were character names, like Akatsuki. They hadn't volunteered their real names, and she hadn't figured out a way to ask without breaking character. And... she just couldn't do that. Not yet. Not after the horrific way she'd woken up in this world.

She'd been online, gleefully anticipating the new update, waiting for the servers to reboot so she could log in and find Akatsuki's sworn lord in the middle of all-new trouble. Because he _would_ be. Shiroe attracted trouble like honey did wasps. Enchanters were squishy; Shiroe knew that better than anyone. Yet he could _not_ see a new part of the world and not poke it, any more than he could walk by an upset young player in over their head-

The clock had clicked over.

The next thing she knew, she was standing on the green roof of a ruined skyscraper in Akihabara.

...No. Akatsuki the _male Assassin_ had been standing on that roof. With Tsukino Akane's terrified mind somehow along for the ride.

Her reflexes had been off. Her balance had been horrible. She hadn't had a clue what to do next, or even if she could get out of the building without breaking her own neck. She'd tripped more than once, painfully.

_What happened? Where am I? What do I do? Did this happen to anyone else? _

_Did it happen to Shiroe?_

It should have been a crazy thought. But the view beyond the roof edge was Akihabara, as she'd seen it hundreds of times in the game. She was in Akatsuki's body. And the last thing she remembered was waiting for the Novasphere Pioneers reboot.

Shiroe had been waiting for it, too.

If that wasn't a coincidence, if other people had also been transported to a world that shouldn't exist-

_Shiroe could be here. I have to find him. I promised to protect him! _

Right now, that promise seemed laughable. She couldn't even protect herself.

_Even shrimpy little Akane could protect herself better than I can right now! Everything's too small, I move too far - if only this body were_ smaller-

She froze, one hand against a wall to hold her up. There was a way. If this was Seldesha, if magic was real - she knew exactly what she needed.

_A character adjustment potion. They're rare, and expensive. But Shiroe has one. How can I find him? _

If this was Seldesha... Akatsuki had the Tracker subclass. If she could figure that out, she could find him.

_Maybe. I don't have a starting point, I don't have a trail, he definitely doesn't have a lair_-

She bumped wrapped knuckles off her forehead. A Tracker could do a lot more than just find trails. Some of her tracking was inherently mystical. Seek Prey, for example, let her character reach out and _sense_ the presence of what she sought. At least, that's what the flavor text on a Tracker's abilities said, adding that welcome touch of lore and legend to simple game mechanics about icons on a mini-map.

Mystical or not, she'd found Shiroe with it before. In the game.

_Even when I'm not looking for him. There just aren't that many level 90 Enchanters out there. _

The trick was how to access it. She didn't have a menu.

_Maybe... maybe if I just close my eyes and reach out_...

Far below, something seemed to burn bright as the sun.

Akatsuki blinked away what had to be sunspots; either from the menu that had suddenly shimmered into her field of view with the _Seek Prey_ mini-map lit, or from the massive suit of armor strutting far below. Argh. Tanks-

A tank with a mage companion. Tall. Slender. With a familiar white and gold cloak, light glinting from round-lensed glasses.

_Shiroe? _

Shiroe... with someone. Someone she didn't know.

She hesitated on the ledge, catching her altered self against the wall before she could trip. Maybe... maybe she shouldn't go down there. There were other icons on her mini-map, other players nearby that she might know. Others who knew Akatsuki... the male assassin. Not a girl.

_If I go to someone else, they're going to laugh. And then... even if they stop laughing, what could they do? _

Shiroe might laugh, too. She hoped he wouldn't-

He tripped.

_Shiroe's... clumsy?_ Akatsuki thought, incredulous, as the enchanter picked himself up out of the grass. _But I've seen him in the game. He's no DPS, but his agility's definitely above average for a mage_-

Oh. Oh, _no_.

_Shiroe's avatar. It doesn't match_ his _body, either_.

The mingled rush of worry and relief made her stomach churn. If... if he was clumsy in that body, then maybe he would _understand_.

_He's an enchanter. No matter what happens, he can still cast spells. But I can't fight like this! _

She'd never doubted she would have to fight. Wasn't that how manga like this worked? Players trapped in a game turned real, until they died or fought their way free. It was impossible. It was pure fantasy.

It was real. Real as the arms and legs that always reached farther than she meant to. Getting her fingers to manipulate the icons to bring up text chat was horrible-

_No keyboard_.

Well, she thought, eyeing some handy rubble, there was always the _direct_ approach.

Her aim had been atrocious, but at least she hadn't flattened them.

_He saw me. He knows me. But he doesn't _know.

Making her way down to where Shiroe and his armored companion waited in the ruin took every bit of inward focus she had.

_That's Shiroe?_ she'd thought, finally getting a good look. _He's... that can't be_...

His icon's gaze had been sharp; Shiroe's was a laser. The icon hadn't had concentration lines near his eyes, that smoothed out when he saw Akatsuki was in one piece. The icon hadn't had _imperfections_; a lock of wayward black poking up near the part of his hair, writing callus on his fingers, a shy hesitation in his smile.

It was just as well Naotsugu had stuck his brash foot in his mouth. Squealing like a fangirl hugging Pikachu was not how she wanted Shiroe to remember their first in-person meeting.

But he really, really was cute. Much cuter than his icon.

And Shiroe hadn't laughed. He'd been upset. Worried. She could see it in the way he fingered his staff, as if racking his brain for a spell that could fix this. He hadn't even tried to bargain for the rare potion. Just handed it over, and hauled his clanking friend to the other side of the screen to give her some privacy.

She'd swigged the potion, and caught her breath. If everything worked like the game, this should take her back to the character creation scene-

Her body caught fire.

Pain. Everything was pure pain. She couldn't think; she could barely breathe.

_Give me something I can fight in!_

No console to select her stats. No casual scroll of character models to choose from. Just pain, and her determination to fight; her will matched against bone-melting agony, struggling to hold the image of one perfect kendo form, blade slicing the air like silk...

The absence of pain almost made her black out.

_Over_. She blinked, registering how everything seemed to have jumped a foot taller. _Well, at least I should be able to walk... _

_Why is my head so heavy?_

She caught a hank of long, raven-violet hair, and blinked. The color spilling over her fingers was almost the same as Akatsuki's had been, but the length-!

_This model is definitely a girl_. She breathed a sigh of relief, then frowned. _If I'm going to fight, I need to keep this out of my face_.

Her fingers were moving without thought, finding something to tie back most of the long strands in a few oddments from her gear. Huh.

_Now I just need to face the pervert_.

Though the look on Shiroe's face as she stepped out had been utterly worth it. He was just so _pale_. And his face had gone from snow-white to maple-leaf-scarlet in a heartbeat.

She'd seen her friends flirt. She knew what a flustered guy looked like. But she'd never seen it because of her.

Then he'd done his best to bury the blush and everything along with it under _I am going to be professional_. Which - well, on one hand, darn. On the other - Shiroe in problem-solving mode was familiar, in a place where nothing was like Earth. Shiroe was a rock standing against the sea, and she wasn't too proud to shelter behind him.

Neither was Naotsugu. Which made the Assassin _and_ the college student perk up, intrigued. She knew guys. She _definitely_ knew tanks. Even the nicest guys had an ego, and tanks were all about attention.

But unlike the tanks she'd dealt with in most PUGs, Naotsugu seemed to get all the attention he needed from poking fun at a flustered Enchanter and dishing out Curb Stomp Battles as needed with a shield, a sword, and a grin. Taking orders from a skinny, glasses-wearing wizard? Getting kneed in the face by a girl half his size and weight? All part of the day, along with random monsters and bad panty jokes. Maybe under ordinary circumstances she would have been reluctant to party as a girl with someone who openly called himself a pervert. But Shiroe trusted him.

_Because he trusts himself_. And those who trusted themselves - really trusted themselves, not just strutted around _acting_ like they did...

People like that, could be trusted right back. No wonder Shiroe had been glad to find him. So-called pervert or not.

Besides, she was pretty sure she could handle him. The _faces_ Naotsugu had made as she'd stretched...

Oh, that had felt good. No matter how hard she'd practiced, she'd never been able to just flex like she could now. Or peer through the darkness like a cat; with Nightvision, she'd never have to worry about being caught off guard in the dark again. And Sneak and Silent Move, wrapping her mind around _here-I-am_ and _there-I-will-be_ to flicker between them like a shadow cast by a candle-flame...

_I never want to stop_.

Though this world had its own grim perils. Too many of which came in the form of other Adventurers.

_PKers. Despicable_.

Yet she wasn't sorry about that fight. She'd trusted Naotsugu, because Shiroe did - but that night was the first time she'd been sure he trusted _her_. Deliberately tanking three DPS-specced fighters, counting on an Enchanter with almost no attack power and an Assassin he couldn't see to take down their foes before the massed attack brought him down...

Naotsugu had trusted her. Shiroe had trusted her; she'd known that _visual on four _was meant for her, as in _find who cast that root and do something about it_.

Which meant attacking other players. She didn't like it - but they'd attacked her party first.

_We're trapped in another world. Half of us are scared to death. And they treat this like - like it's still a game? Like they can just terrify people,_ hurt _them, and it doesn't matter because we come back to life?_

Despicable. Utterly beneath contempt. And her party had counted on her to be the cool, competent Assassin, delivering that harshest of lessons.

Her party trusted her. Even when she looked like a cute little kid. That was warming, if a bit scary.

Though not nearly as scary as how Shiroe had read the PKers' minds. Akatsuki had a hard enough time wrapping her mind around the petty malice that would attack another player. Shiroe had predicted the entire fight.

_He knew they'd try to eliminate Naotsugu. That they'd underestimate Electrical Fuzz because it's a weak attack, and never pay attention to the light left behind. That Naotsugu could_ use _that opening_...

Shiroe had known every move they were going to make. Down to Dog-Ears' faked surrender. And Akatsuki's response.

_You will not touch my lord!_

It still unsettled her now, thinking of that sudden, deadly strike. In that moment, she hadn't been roleplaying the stoic ninja. She'd been Akatsuki, the enchanter Shiroe's loyal Assassin, dealing death in furious silence.

Shiroe hadn't even flinched.

Scary.

But better than the brooding. Shiroe might try to pass it off as just thinking. She knew better. He wasn't "doing nothing", no matter what he might think. He was gathering information, trying to figure out what of this world was and wasn't like the game. He was crafting tentative alliances; Marielle might act like a total flutterby, but the Crescent Moon Alliance was holding together, and they'd be a solid, quiet powerbase to contact other guilds and start building something beyond each group looking after themselves. He'd been out in the darkness looking at campfires, instead of retreating to an inn. Trying to figure out how to _fix_ things.

_But he_ can't _fix all of this himself. So - I'm glad we're out here. One girl. One rescue. Let's complete a quest, and get our feet under us with a victory_.

They needed that victory. Her lord maybe most of all. Akatsuki knew how easy it was to turn inward on yourself in silence; to bury what you wanted in the casket of what everyone else expected. But this world, this impossible situation - it was completely beyond the boundaries of the expected. If they were going to survive, they needed to go outside that box.

_We need to be free_.

A dizzying thought. Partly from exhilaration; this world was a dream made real, and she wanted to soak in every moment of it. Partly from guilt; breaking out of her family's box was necessary, but she was going to miss them so much.

But she didn't have any regrets, Akatsuki thought, as they picked themselves up to start off again. Except one; and that was so unimportant, she shouldn't even mention it.

_I wish... I wish I thought_ living_ the game would be as amazing as playing it_...

"Wait."

Summoning whistle in hand, Akatsuki blinked at the other two. What exactly were they holding? They looked like carved wooden eagle heads. Only eagles didn't have ears-

The whistle soared out forever.

_Wings. That sound is_... wings...

"You didn't think we were going to get to the far north on horses, did you?"

_Gryphons! _

Face still red, Akatsuki hung onto Shiroe as they took off into the sky, breathing in fur and feathers and the faint ozone tang of magic. Endless blue was veined with clouds, and Seldesha spread out below them like a silken quilt of rivers and forests and fields...

No. It wasn't going to be as amazing as the game.

_It's going to be_ better.

* * *

A/N: PUG - pick-up group; players who may not know each other well getting together in an informal party.

Jenkins - as in Leeroy Jenkins. (See TVTropes. Mwah-ha-hah...)


	4. The Odds of Not Drowning

A/N: Monsters are one thing. Falling bridges, quite another.

* * *

_Wet_, Naotsugu thought as he lifted his pair of mutually-smitten idiots up onto the rocky shore. Thank goodness he'd had a moment to tuck most of his armor back into inventory before diving after Akatsuki. And for the fact that the Frontier Scout subclass had a bunch of useful survival skills. Like, say, swimming. _Very, very wet_.

But Shiroe was breathing, and all of them were in one piece. Good.

"We should give him a potion!"

Akatsuki, freaking out as she stripped the soaked cloak and components-pack off their Enchanter. Naotsugu couldn't blame her much; that'd been one heck of a drop.

Still, one of them had to keep a level head. "When he can't hold his breath?" Naotsugu pointed out. "If the river didn't drown him, we don't want to do the job for it." He made his voice casual, matter of fact, as he hung white fabric up on a boulder to dry. "Look at his HP. It's not down that much. Just give him a few minutes."

"A few minutes-!" Akatsuki turned Shiroe on his side so any water could drain. She watched him keep breathing, one dainty hand curling into a white-knuckled fist. "What was he thinking?"

"What, you think he was thinking?" Naotsugu teased. "He lets you take on the monsters. That was a _bridge_, and he..."

The Assassin was _glaring_ at him. With an Evil Aura of the hue of _you are not making sense, and you had better start_ right now.

_Hardcore roleplayer, _Naotsugu remembered. _Right_. "He never talked to you about real life, huh? Don't feel bad," he hurried on, before Akatsuki could bristle any scarier. "Took us months to get him to open up in Debauchery Tea Party. Too many years of every player and his uncle _wanting_ things from him, you should have seen what I had to set up to meet him and we were living in almost the same neighborhood... Shiroe's an engineer. Will be, if we get back - anyway. Like I said; that was a bridge, not a monster. If a bridge falls, people get hurt. And it's an engineer's fault."

Wide purple eyes blinked at him. "But-!"

"Did I say he was thinking?" Naotsugu shrugged. "Most of the time he's pretty good at keeping the two separate; Enchanter and engineer. But we've been here for weeks. He can't block out a weekend and say, _I'll be an Enchanter for five hours_. He _is_ an Enchanter. All the time." He gave her a dead-serious look. "Which means he can't shut off the engineer, either. We're going to have to watch him, more than I thought."

"Watch him?" Akatsuki sputtered. But her knuckles were loosening. Just a little.

"Heh." Naotsugu glanced at his friend's even breathing, and propped his sword and shield up against the boulder with the cloak. "We should have been dead just hitting the water. You know that, right?"

Akatsuki swallowed. "...Yes. I know."

"Shiroe knows it too." Naotsugu grinned, and stood up to stretch. "Gryphons and other worlds and mini-ninja. I guess that was just one impossible thing too many for a while!"

For a second, he was sure he was going to get another knee to the face.

"Uh..."

Akatsuki dropped out of stance to fuss over their bedraggled Enchanter. "My lord!"

Yep. Crush. Definitely.

_Got to figure out a way to hint around that the chibi's good for him_, Naotsugu thought, drying off his sword as if he'd never been worried one bit. _Hmm. Maybe, "what is it with your love life and falling rocks"?_

Heh. Maybe not quite.

Eh, not to worry. He'd think of _something_.


	5. Wisp of a Chance

_Stop thinking of it as a game_. Sitting outside his tent, Shiroe pulled his cloak a little tighter around him against the chill of the night. Thinking. Or maybe trying not to think. The implications, if Nyanta was right...

_We already have evidence he is. Maybe it's time to stop thinking. And_ act.

Staff raised, Shiroe summoned Magic Light.

Shimmering out of the crook of polished wood, the Wisp blinked at him.

The enchanter let out a slow breath, locking gazes with the translucent globe of white light. When Elder Tale had just been a game, the flavor text on Magic Light had said it summoned a minor spirit of light. But in the game, it had just been a bright white sphere floating near his avatar, allowing him to view a battlefield otherwise dark to all but Assassins. The first time he'd summoned it in this world, after the Apocalypse, and seen light looking _back_...

He hadn't quite yelped and swatted it. He'd just... looked. And added yet another item to his growing list of Things to Panic About Later.

_It blinks. It looks at me, and at where we're going; almost as if it likes the walk. It reads maps over my shoulder, it hides behind me when the monsters swarm. It acts_... alive.

The Wisp was blinking at him now, turning from side to side as if to see why he might have summoned it, then turning back to him with a bob that was almost a shrug.

"No monsters right now," Shiroe murmured. "Just questions..."

He wasn't an Assassin. But being a level 90 anything raised your threat perception ability. Shiroe glanced back toward the rustle of skirts. "Serara? I didn't think you'd be up."

"I saw the light." The young druid looked serious, staff gripped in both hands. "Is something wrong?"

"No! No, nothing's wrong," he tried to wave her off. "I'm just... experimenting."

"Experimenting? But Magic Light is a low-level spell..." Brown eyes peered at the glowing Wisp, then widened. "Oh! You think magic might be like cooking?"

"Well," he ducked his head, "there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Serara stepped nearer, eyes shining. "It's cute! Will it let me pet it?"

Shiroe raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected that question. Though given Serara's reaction to Nyanta...

"Um." Serara nibbled her lip. "_Can_ I pet it? It's kind of see-through."

"I honestly don't know-"

Pale light ducked into the collar of his cloak. Bobbed up a little, as if peeking shyly at the druid.

Shiroe started. The touch was cool, and ticklish. Almost like a tiny fish nibbling at his skin, drinking away sips of energy-

_Oh. Of course_.

"Um... are you going to get tired?" Serara looked a little worried; hand held up empty, not so near as to startle the Wisp. "Magic Light's a continuous spell, right?"

"It is." Shiroe kept his nod subtle; he didn't want to disturb the spirit. "But at my level, my mana regen is so fast I barely feel it. It just tickles a little." Which gave him an idea. If it really was drinking part of his magic...

_I've cast spells with just a gesture before, _Shiroe thought_. I know what it feels like, focusing the magic with my hand_.

So how malleable was magic, now that it wasn't a game?

_What happens if I just try to call magic? Not a spell. Nothing specific. Just... power_.

For a long moment, nothing happened. He wasn't even sure what he was trying to do. Every spell he cast was keyed to _something_. Words, gestures, the console...

_If it's not a game, then someone had to learn magic from scratch. How do I start from the beginning? It's not like cooking, people don't go around learning to move energy_-

It was a good thing that Akatsuki wasn't out here, because for once, he might have earned a knee to the face. People moved energy on Earth. They did it all the time.

_Every martial artist uses chi. And you do it by visualization, and... breathing_.

He drew in a breath, and slowly let it out. Picturing that flow of energy from his heart, down his arm...

Something seemed to shimmer above his fingers, like air above hot asphalt.

Moving slowly, he lifted that hand near the collar of his cloak, palm upward. The Wisp bobbed a little in place, then hovered over his fingers.

Carefully, Shiroe brought his hand down, until he and Serara both could look the Wisp in its blinking spots of eyes. "You're a Druid. What do you think?"

Wand of Oak in hand, Serara tilted her head, and half-closed her eyes. "It feels... a little like a tree? It doesn't have roots, and it's not solid. But it feels more like a tree than a rock, or an animal."

Shiroe sat up straight, pulse quickening. _Nyanta's right. I should have known_. "Serara. You can feel trees?"

"A little?" She blushed. "I didn't have much chance to practice in Susukino. Out here, it's easier... it's strange, but it's kind of nice. Can you feel them? Oh, but - you're an Enchanter."

"I don't think I feel them the same way you do." Shiroe made himself take a calm breath. _She doesn't know me. I'm looking out for her, but she's in Marielle's guild. She doesn't have to be responsible for me_. "I can feel magic. I think-"

"Oh! That makes sense." Her cheeks went pink. "But I'm sure Mr. Shiroe already thought of that."

"I'm not," Shiroe admitted, cupping the Wisp in his hand. It seemed okay with one stroking finger, though it edged away if he tried to pet it. "You have an idea?"

"Well... you're an Enchanter. And I think Guildmaster Marielle said Enchanters can move mana?" She turned a little pinker. "I wasn't really listening."

"That's true," Shiroe nodded, holding still as Serara carefully reached in to stroke her own finger over the glowing sphere. And hoping he wasn't blushing too badly. _I was so worried about... not being human... I forgot that our classes might have an effect_. Which was very, very silly; he knew Darkvision was an Assassin skill, and that Naotsugu had heightened senses to detect enemies because _he was a Guardian_. Why hadn't he thought about his class, not just his race?

Damn. From that burn on his cheeks, he was definitely blushing. "It's one of an Enchanter's special abilities," Shiroe said hastily. "The ability to redistribute your party's mana. I would have used it when you were healing Naotsugu, but I didn't want Londark to realize what kind of mage I was, or he might have been prepared for Thorn Bind Hostage. So... if I can move other people's mana, why not mine? And I think I just did-"

Light fled up into the crook of his staff, blinking fast.

"Aww." Serara sighed. "I guess it doesn't know me."

"Not yet," Shiroe murmured. A little surprised; for someone who was so obviously crushing on the Chief, she knew how to stay still and _wait_.

Blinking slowed. Cat-careful, the Wisp edged back down; circling wood, then twining its way around his arm and shoulder, before circling back to settle in his palm as if absolutely nothing had happened. Bright eyes turned up toward Serara, tilting in inquiry.

"Oh, that's why it feels like a tree!" Serara almost bounced in place. "It likes your staff!"

Shiroe raised dark brows, looking over the staff that fit into his hand as if he'd been carrying it for years. Which... his avatar _had_.

_The Prudent Horned Owl Cane_, he recalled. _How did the flavor text go? 'It is said that it aids the possessor's thoughts with its wisdom, lighting a path through uncertainty...'_

Lighting. And the Wisp was a _spirit of light_.

"Shiroe?" Serara and the Wisp were both peering at him, worried. "Is something wrong?"

"The flavor text. It's not just words." He stared at the little Wisp, wondering what other secrets his own magic might hide. "It means something."

"It does?" Serara looked at the Wand of Oak in her off hand, brown eyes wide. "Mighty enough to help an Adventurer setting forth on her first journey defend herself."

"It did, didn't it?" Shiroe studied her Wand, trying to sort out what he felt. If magic worked differently than what they knew from the game; if they could _make_ it work differently...

He should feel overwhelmed. Afraid. There was an endless gaping unknown here, and their lives might depend on everything they didn't know.

But what he felt was the thrill he'd had the first time his character had set foot on the last expansion's ships, testing magic and wits against pirates and the ocean. Only... vaster. Deeper. Like the moment he'd looked into the sun over the Lyport Channel, and realized they were the first Adventurers who'd truly seen that dawn.

_This is our reality._

"We should be playing with this," Shiroe said, half to himself. "With our magic."

"Eh?!" Serara's jaw dropped. "_Playing?_ But - but-!"

"Not in the middle of a fight." Shiroe smiled at her; if anyone had to right to still be worried after Susukino, she did. "But a lot of good teamwork in a party depends on combining subtle effects. If we can change what those are - we may have an advantage." He looked at the Wisp, apparently quite happy to soak up that shimmer of power rather than just sip his aura. "We're not in a game anymore. And that makes playing even more important. We can't just survive. We have to find ways to hope. To have fun." He laughed softly. "Serara, this is the biggest expansion _ever_. If we don't find out how to play it, what kind of gamers are we?"


End file.
